Windows
by S.E. Mellark
Summary: Edward has long since grown used to the sounds of war.


_Author's Note: _I've been in the FMA fandom for a long freaking time and it never crossed my mind to write something for it. I should probably be doing other stuff (like finishing ongoing projects at a reasonable time of year), but I'm sick and bored, so this was born. This is from the first series and happens after the events of CoS, and is probably riddled with errors historical or otherwise, so please excuse this whole thing in general. Just pretend the movie ended around 1938-1940ish instead of 1923 and you should be fine. This is mainly just me satisfying my boredom and obsession with Fullmetal Alchemist and wondering about the affects war has on people.

**Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist and I most likely never will.**

* * *

_**Windows**_

* * *

Edward has long since grown used to the sounds of war.

Bombs shaking the very earth beneath his feet, cries of anguish when a person learns that the one they love won't be returning home when all is said and done, the roar of fighter planes – American or otherwise – as they fly overhead in the night, in an attempt to end a war they previously had no intentions of getting involved in. He's seen death, loss, and sacrifice, as well as joy and happiness, pride in one's country, the latter of which Edward doesn't think really belongs in a war of this caliber, but who is he to judge? He has no attachment to Germany or any other country, doesn't see history when he looks at the bloodstained soil, but he knows those who do, and it is for their sake that he stays quiet on the matter.

Granted, Edward never saw any of this coming when he first arrived in this place. The zeppelin attack had been nothing but a bizarre occurrence in an equally bizarre world for him at the time, but he hadn't been able to see the unrest within the country, too focused on his own goals and problems to care about a world he had never wanted to be apart of.

Either way, nothing surprises Edward anymore. He realized it a few months ago, before everything went to hell, when he witnessed his first beating in the street. He had only seen the men with the red patch on their arm – like the one Maes wore – and the man lying on the ground at their feet, begging for mercy. Edward should have been shocked that boys that looked to be his own age were doing something so cruel to their countryman, but he wasn't. He had seen things like this before, back in Amestris, and the cruel heart of men didn't necessarily strike a chord within Edward like it used to.

To his credit, Edward had planned to step forward and put a stop to the beating before it got out of hand – since the other civilians were simply turning a blind eye - but then he noticed the gun, the same model and make as the one Eckhart had used on him when she opened the portal between this world and his former one, as well as the one that killed Heiderich. Edward then remembered Alphonse, his sweet little brother, who was waiting for him back at the room. If he did something stupid and got himself shot and killed here, what would Alphonse do without him?

Edward is often disappointed in himself for turning away that day. He had walked off with clenched teeth and fists, infuriated with the situation but too afraid to do anything about it. Then, later the same day, he'd had to listen to Maes and his drinking buddies laugh about the Jewish shoemaker who had been shot in the street, as well as watch Alphonse try to hide the pain in his eyes as someone who is so familiar to them in so many ways talk about another human being in such a vile manner.

He hates this world, hates the person it's turning him into, but at the end of the day, what can he do about it? As much as Edward doesn't want to admit it, he's powerless here. With no alchemy at his disposal, he tends to keep his head down and always has to look behind his back. As one of the few people in the city who hasn't joined up with the national socialists, it seems as if he's always being watched, scrutinized, even by his so-called friends, and he's always on edge.

It's not like before, back when Noah was still around, when he took on gunfire and angry Germans just to make sure she was safe from their biased judgment. The Nazis have more manpower now, and with Al around, Edward can't take risks. In some ways, he's still a dog of the military, rolling over to their every command just to save his own skin.

But he's not Edward Elric anymore, the Fullmetal Alchemist, who would fight even for the life a homunculus. Here, he's just Edward Elric, simple German citizen who let an innocent man get shot in the street.

Still, it's not often Edward criticizes himself for his actions. In war, it's only natural to adapt as a means to get by, and that's just what he's doing. He's keeping himself and Alphonse alive longer, even if that means turning a blind eye to what's going on around him and simply accepting it as everyday life in Germany.

Nothing about this world surprises him anymore, though there is one person that Edward just can't seem to figure out no matter how hard he tries.

When they were kids, Al was like an open book. His eyes expressed everything that was going on inside his mind, and it wasn't often that Edward had to sit and agonize for _hours _over why his younger brother was upset. Here, he does that quite often.

When Alphonse first followed him into this strange world, Edward wasn't sure what to think. First and foremost, he'd been overjoyed that he didn't have to live out the rest of his life without his precious brother by his side, but then the worry had taken over. All that mess with Eckhart, Noah, and the bomb had opened his eyes to what was really going on in the country. Did he really want Alphonse around when the future of this world was so uncertain?

But there was no way Edward could send his brother back to Amestris, not that Al would have consented to going back alone anyway. He let his brother stay, and they set to work on tracking down the bomb. But shortly after, Alphonse got sick, just as Edward had when he began to live in Germany. Perhaps it had something to do with the change in universe, or maybe it was just the different climate. Either way, Edward insisted they return to Munich so Al could recover. And here they were, almost a year later; Alphonse was fine, yet they couldn't leave the city without being questioned as to why by the police.

"Might as well collar me and start ordering me to piss on command with all the orders you give." Edward bit out at Maes once when the older man tried to caution him and Al not to try and leave Munich any time soon.

"It's just a suggestion, Ed; from a friend, not an officer." Maes had sighed in reply, glancing over at Alphonse, who was sitting in a chair as he looked out the window, frown set firmly in place as he watched the people in the streets below. It was Edward's first clue-in to his brother's gradual change, how Al hadn't tried to pacify the situation with careful words and an easy smile.

Actually, coaxing a smile out of Alphonse these days is one of the most difficult tasks in Edward's day-to-day life.

Their friends would never guess that something is wrong with Al; it's not like they knew him before. But to Edward, who remembers high-pitched laughter and bright, curious eyes, this quiet, subdued version of his brother is hard to swallow. Granted, before he followed Eckhart back to Amestris, Edward had been eleven when he last saw Al's human body, so Al as a child is what he remembers most.

His body looks the same upon inspection, younger than the soul that had been changed and altered after years of travel and hardship, and even more so since the war began. Al resides in the body of a fourteen-year-old when his soul is almost eighteen. It's a tricky concept, even for Edward, who sometimes forgets that Al isn't as innocent and naïve as his looks convey.

Being away from home as much as he is, Edward can't always keep an eye on Alphonse to see just what he's being exposed to. He does know that Al was home alone the day the Gestapo herded all the Jewish families out of their building and into the ghettos. Edward ran home when Maes triumphantly delivered the news after work and was unnerved by the silence, slightly terrified that Al had been mistakenly taken away as well while Edward wasn't around. But he found Alphonse sitting alone on their shared bed with his hands in his lap, fiddling with a wedding ring that Edward later learned was given to him by a woman who lived in the room next to theirs before she was taken away.

"'Keep it safe.'" Alphonse had said later that night, the first words he had spoken since Edward returned home to find most of his neighbors gone. "'I know you're a good boy.' That's what she said when I answered the door. When the Gestapo came, they took all her things, but . . . she walked out smiling."

The day after was when Maes came to warn them against trying to leave, and it was also when Alphonse took to sitting by the window to simply watch. Edward doesn't want to think about what his brother may see during the day, but he has suspicions, if Al's nightmares are any clue.

Edward has long since grown used to the sounds of war, even if there is no sound to be heard. It's when Alphonse stops breathing in the middle of the night only to shake himself out of a dream seconds later, eyes wide with shock and fear that he can't always hide from Edward. It's the quiet that overtakes the city when the sound of an engine rolls across the landscape, when everyone waits with bated breath to see if the plane is friend or foe. It's the tense air when Maes cleans his gun and Gracia asks quietly if Alphonse would like to join her for an evening stroll.

Everything is commonplace for Edward now, everyone has their own specific way to deal with this war, so when he wakes up one night to find that Alphonse is no longer in bed next to him, he's immediately filled with dread.

He sits up quickly, but freezes soon after, noticing another oddity. Edward closes the curtains at night, finds it hard to sleep unless the room is pitch-black, but now the moonlight is streaming into the room, illuminating the figure that Edward knows should be sleeping beside him. From the bed, Edward can see about half of his brother's face, and what he does see looks troubled and exhausted. "Al?" He calls out, voice still drowsy with sleep.

Alphonse jumps slightly, turning his head fully to catch Edward's half-lidded gaze. "Oh, I'm sorry, Ed. I didn't mean to wake you up."

"Nah, it's okay." Edward mumbles, rubbing at his eye with the heel of his human hand. "I usually wake up around this time of night anyway."

"Really? Huh, I didn't know that."

"S'not like you would, you're usually asleep." Alphonse offers a small smile before turning to look out the window once more, and while Edward waits and waits, his brother makes no move to return to bed. "Al, are you . . . feeling okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." Alphonse replies, shifting forward slightly to rest his forearms on the windowsill. "I just couldn't sleep."

"Another nightmare?" Edward inquires, and Al's silence is louder than any verbal confirmation. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Again, there's no verbal response, but Edward sees the clench of his sibling's jaw and the worry lines that the elder Elric is certain weren't there this morning. Before, Edward would never ask this question. Edward used to be able to pinpoint a dream's subject matter based on his brother's reaction alone.

Hiding under the covers in a trembling heap? Monster dream. Climbing into bed with Edward and shaking him awake just to make sure he was still breathing? Croak dream. Sitting by the window in the middle of the night looking so positively disturbed even Edward feels on edge? Well, that could be anything – dreams of the Philosopher's Stone, the death of their mother, Edward's own demise, or even the happenings of this war. There are countless possibilities.

Alphonse won't talk about things anymore, isn't as open or trusting as he was when he first arrived in this world, and while Edward can hardly blame him, he's becoming worried. Even if Alphonse is slowly losing faith in humanity, he should never be hesitant to confide in Edward. At the end of the day, they're all the other has, and Edward doesn't know what he'll do if Alphonse closes himself off from him completely.

Edward is about to try and coerce Alphonse into telling him what's going on when his brother suddenly speaks. "Does this remind you of Ishval?"

Edward frowns. "Ishval?"

"The Ishvalans were killed and driven from their homeland because someone else thought they were better than the Ishvalans."

"The Ishvalans were used to create a Philosopher's Stone, Al."

"But still." Alphonse insists, never once taking his eyes off the vacant streets below. "When we were growing up, we were taught in school that the people of Ishval were savage and deserved everything they got. Our worlds . . . Amestris and here . . . they're not all that different."

Edward would like to disagree but can't bring himself to. He would be lying after all if he said Amestris was any better than Germany or Lithuania or any number of countries that are taking part in this war. There is no difference, just as he told Eckhart and Alphonse all those months ago. "The Ishvalan survivors must have been so scared when they were forced from their homes." Alphonse continues, and Edward suddenly understands. "They didn't know what would happen. Do you think they trusted the military to do what was best for them?"

"This isn't going to be another Ishval, Al." Edward insists as he scrambles from the bed, uncomfortable with the dangerous tone his brother's voice is taking. "This government the Germans have is different. People have a voice that overpowers the military here. Someone will stop it before it gets out of hand."

He feels that if he doesn't mollify the situation now, Alphonse as he knows him will be gone come morning. Edward walks around the bed to stand beside Al's chair, peering out the window to see if, just this once, there's actually something to be seen.

As usual, there's nothing outside.

"How do you know? This world is full of parallels, after all. And this world is changing, Ed." Alphonse says, and while Edward can't feel it, he knows his younger brother has reached up to hold his hand. "It's becoming the führer and his military and no one else. No one has a voice."

"He thinks what he's doing is okay." Edward says. "So do Maes and his friends."

"Are you defending them?"

"No, I'm not. It's just . . . in their minds, they're helping the world. They see a threat, and they get rid of it. If I thought something was threatening you or me, I'd do something about it too." Partially true, Edward thinks bitterly, for he knows this whole Nazi thing threatens the two of them more than anything in this world ever will, and yet he does nothing.

"But you're a good person, Edward." Alphonse shoots up at him, sounding positively furious in his own right. No matter how many changes he goes through, Alphonse still manages to sound calm and rational even when he's angry. Edward envies his brother that, aware of his own fiery temper that never seems to lessen with age. "You don't just _kill_ for no reason. Hell, you never kill at all!"

"I killed Greed."

"You didn't mean to! You told me what happened, you tried to save him."

"Whether or not I tried to save him is irrelevant, Al, it's still my fault he died." Edward says quietly, glancing down at his brother only to find that he's not looking out the window anymore, but at Edward, with raw desperation in his eyes. "Hey, what's gotten into you? Aren't I supposed to be the pessimistic one of the two of us?"

"I just – I need – " Alphonse shakes his head, and Edward holds his breath. "I want home."

Edward averts his gaze, knowing Alphonse will see the self-loathing he feels. Figures that the one thing Al wants more than anything is something Edward can't give. "I want _you._" Alphonse clarifies, gripping onto Edward's metal hand even tighter and tugging, and Edward has visions of Al as a toddler, pulling on his hand and saying, "Up, Brother, up!"

"You're my home," Alphonse keeps going even as Edward blinks down at him in confusion, "and I need to feel safe with you again."

"Al – "

"Just tell me it'll be okay, Edward." The use of his full name grasps at Edward's attention far more than any nonsense Al may be spouting in the face of this war. "I know there's good still out there, I see it every time I look at you. You haven't changed; you're not like them. You're not the reason Noah left. Tell me it'll be okay, and I'll believe you."

Edward, for once, is at a loss for words. How can he reassure Alphonse anything when he himself isn't too certain this war will ever end? You would think after all they had seen, this death and loss wouldn't affect them. Edward is just exhausted and fed up with the injustice he always seems to be surrounded by. But what of Al? What is he thinking about all this? Has he really changed or is he simply reacting as a teenager or small child might to such a situation? And because of this wall that has been built up between them, Edward has no way of knowing.

Plagued with a fatigue that he never thought he would feel as such a young age, Edward sinks to his knees beside Alphonse's chair, holding his brother's intense gaze and remaining steadfast in his grip on Al's hand. "Alphonse, I – I _promise _you this will end. One way or another, we won't have to deal with this forever. We'll find a way to leave the country, if that's what it takes. Travel to England, sail to America, I don't know, but we'll find a way. We always do."

Alphonse blinks, shifting his gaze to their hands before he sighs and slowly pulls his hand away. "It didn't work." Before Edward can even begin to feel confused again, Alphonse continues. "Brother, what do you think happened to the Jews and the gypsies that were sent to the ghettos?"

"What do I think – They're still there, aren't they? I mean . . . Maes said they're just being quarantined for now."

Al shakes his head before turning his gaze to that stupid window. "He did say that. Maybe he believes it, but I doubt it. I was watching, you know. You were at work, and I was reading a book, but then I heard noise out in the street. I looked out and there they were, the Jews and countless others. Our neighbors, Ed. You know what they looked like? Nothing but skin and bone practically, though there were those that faired better than the others. People who live in the rooms across the street spit on them as they passed, called them awful things. The Gestapo marched them right out of the town, off toward the tracks. Where do you think they went from there, Edward?"

Edward says nothing, watching his brother carefully to see if perhaps they're thinking the same thing. There's been rumors around town that the Nazis have set up camps where they send the Jews, gypsies, homosexuals, and countless others to be killed. Some believe the slander, others don't, think it's too harsh or extreme and that the fuhrer only wants to keep the "undesirables" away from German citizens, not _kill _them all, but Edward believes every word. After all, it's not that surprising considering everything else he's seen. That man was shot in the open streets and no one cared. Edward can only imagine all that goes on behind closed doors.

If Edward had any doubts as to what Alphonse knows before, they're completely gone now as he sees the pain in his brother's expression. Now he knows what's going on.

Alphonse has always been a gentle spirit and quick to trust, unlike his older brother who questions everything as a second nature. When Al first came to this world, he must have been awe-struck and curious about all there was to know. There had been peace then – somewhat – and Al must have been under the impression that the hardships were over, that they had managed to find a way back to one another and things had finally calmed down and they could simply live out their lives together. But then the war began and Alphonse began to realize that this world was frighteningly similar to their own in the worst possible way. This wasn't the fresh start he had imagined.

Alphonse will be fine. He isn't irrevocably damaged, as Edward had feared, although the memories of these past months and the ones to come will never leave him. He's tired and scared, like Edward is. His spirit is crushed, for lack of better words. And Al is intuitive. He could see the stress Edward was under and didn't want to add to it, opting to stay silent about his worries instead of confiding in Edward as they had before. Even after all those years apart, the two of them still put the other's well being before their own, but in contrast, they've forgotten how it feels to trust someone wholeheartedly.

Edward shakes his head, unable to fight back a grin even as tears begin to build in Alphonse's eyes. "Alphonse, it's okay if you aren't reassured just because I say we'll be fine anymore. That's good, actually; you finally have a mind of your own."

"My nightmares – " Alphonse says and doesn't pull his hand away when Edward reaches for it again. "It's usually the Gestapo coming to take me when you're not here. And then – when I get to the train, they put me inside with the others, and I hear you calling for me, but I can't find you. I never know if you were inside with me or outside trying to get me out."

"Hey, it's okay." Edward soothes, relieved that he's still able to tell when a sobbing fit is approaching.

"I'm glad this world can't use alchemy." Alphonse chokes. "Imagine what they would do with it, Ed. Imagine if a man like Mustang existed here, or Scar, or the _homunculi. _These people would try to do human transmutation without even knowing the consequences."

"You'd tell them." Edward swears. "You'd tell them about the consequences because you're a good boy."

Alphonse freezes, his eyes widen a fraction, and Edward thinks of that Jewish woman whose ring his brother now possesses.

He knows Alphonse is too.

With a cry so desperate it would bring Edward to his knees if he weren't already there, Alphonse flings himself from his chair and into Edward's arms. "I want you to be outside that train." Al cries into Edward's shoulder. "You have _no _idea."

"I can imagine." Edward replies, because he would say the same thing, every time. He seriously doubts he'll be taken away just for not pledging his undying loyalty to the National Socialist Party, but then again, anything is possible. But no matter what happens to him, Edward will see to it that Alphonse isn't affected. His relationship with Maes is hesitant at best after all that happened with Noah, but Edward trusts that Maes and Gracia will take care of Al should something happen to him. But he's not dead yet, and Al shouldn't have to worry that his older brother will disappear again for a long time to come. "It's okay, Al. Nothing's gonna happen to us. This war will be over soon."

"Not soon enough for all those people." Alphonse says before surrendering completely to his emotions and clutching at Edward even more desperately than before.

Alphonse is so loud in his sobbing that Edward wonders why everything is so quiet around them. It wouldn't be the first time Alphonse has cried out in the night and the man living above them stomped on the floor and yelled for him to pipe down. But for once, everything is quiet, and when Edward hears shuffling above them but, still, no shouting, Edward comes to a bittersweet realization.

It seems as if everyone else has grown used to the sounds of war as well.


End file.
